Listen to Me Marlon

Director: Stevan Riley

The first images we see in Stevan Riley's captivating documentary on Marlon Brando are of a digital image made of the legendary actor when he was alive. As the image turns and rotates, we see the mouth move and Brando's voice emanating from the computer-generated head. We hear him mention how images such as his will become the norm in entertainment; words that may prove to be prophetic, I'm sure. Brando's synthetic image resembles a classically sculpted bust; Greco-Roman, which is entirely appropriate, given his monumental stature as an actor on stage and screen. In spite of a troubled life and spotty career--his taste in scripts were sometimes less than equal to his outsized talent--the man and his work remain a subject whose depths have yet to fully plumbed.

Wedding archival video and film footage to audio commentary from a vast collection of recordings Brando made throughout his life, Riley's Listen to Me Marlon is a hypnotic tapestry of biography and filmography. We learn so much about someone we think we know yet the film leaves us with so much more to explore and films to assess or reassess.

In Brando's words, which serve as the film's narration, we hear about his early life in Omaha, Nebraska while photos of his childhood appear onscreen. Brando speaks of his father being a terrible man; abusive to his mother and unloving toward his son. Later, we see a successful Brando and his father during an interview. Though smiles appear onscreen, the lack of father-son love is palpable. So virulent was Brando's disdain for his father that we hear him later in the film speak of his effort to keep his children away from him. We see photos of Brando as a child with his mother, of whom he speaks more fondly though he is also candid about her flaws, which include her alcoholism.

The misery of school is also documented in photos and audio, as is Brando's early days on stage in New York and his tutelage under Stella Adler; the famed acting instructor. In one among many self-analytical moments, Brando discusses a plausible reason for his becoming an actor when he says when someone is unwanted, one looks for an identity that is acceptable.

He recalls feeling like a million bucks after an excellent night on Broadway. Of course his thoughts on playing Stanley Kowalski are rife and often revealing. He talks about how people expected him to be Stanley in person but Brando makes it clear he was nothing like the character when he says he hated that guy. In discussing Terry Malloy from On the Waterfront, Brando attributes the audience's sympathy for his character's every-man appeal when he says everyone in the audience feels they could have been a contender.

Brando's choice of political material is addressed as is his social activism; including his participation in civil rights marches. He acknowledges that he too risked his life; his fame would have hardly spared him the violence visited on so many.

Valuable commentary accompanies the more commonly known aspects of his life; his decampment to a Polynesian island, his troubled marriages, his torrid affairs, his professional decline and his triumphant return to box office glory and critical acclaim for his roles in The Godfather and The Last Tango in Paris, which netted him an Oscar for best actor. We hear a few words about the infamous Oscar acceptance speech by a Native American woman named Little Feather and later, in a tragic turn, the trial of his son Christian for the murder of his half-sister Cheyenne's boyfriend. Excerpts of the trial, in which Brando himself testified, are seen in all their luridness. If his son's predicament wasn't enough, his daughter Cheyenne's suicide half-a-decade after his son's arrest was another tragedy that must have sorely tried his sanity.

Everything we learn in Riley's film is hardly new. Every part of his life and career addressed therein is common knowledge. What makes Listen to Me Marlon something beyond the beaten path are Brando's audio-diaries, which had never been heard before. How Riley gained access to said tapes is information I'm not privy to but it hardly matters. The fact that they exist and Riley put them to effective use is all I need to know.

Other than Albert Maysles' film on Brando; which we see a few clips of in Riley's film, I can't remember seeing such a moving documentary on his life and career. Though Riley's film is hardly the definitive documentary on Brando, where else has the man been allowed to tell his story in his own words, save for his autobiography: Brando: Songs My Mother Taught Me?

Of course there is more to the story; many details about films and failed relationships and Brando's difficulties with other actors on sets, as well as his dalliances, are explored in greater detail elsewhere but where else have we seen a digitized Brando? Listen to Me Marlon is a very satisfying documentary; one to be considered among the year's best. Eleven years after Brando's death and sixty-four years after his groundbreaking performance in A Streetcar Named Desire, there seems to be no end to our fascination with the man and his career. I'm sure Riley's film, though exceptional, is hardly the last we will hear about him. Let this film be one that others are measured against.

American Ultra

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Nima Nourizadeh/Jesse Eisenberg, Kristen Stewart, Connie Britton, Topher Grace, John Leguizamo, Bill Pullman and Walton Goggins

American Ultra is a movie that adopts a personality that is all wrong for its premise then tries to sell that shortcoming as a strength. Said premise; a stoner convenience store clerk who realizes he was actually once a highly-trained CIA operative could have been quite funny if Director Nima Nourizadeh and writer Max Landis (yes, son of director John Landis) had run wild with the comedic aspects of the story rather than veering into a serious, hyper-violent, narrative cul-de-sac. I was looking for the Jeff Lebowski-as-government-contract-killer character the trailer promised but got another Jason Bourne instead. What has become a stock character in CIA agent movies; I-guess-I-forgot-I'm-a-CIA-trained-lethal-field-operative; is ripe for comic plunder. Unfortunately Nourizadeh's film loses its way early on; settling for violence and a self-serious story rather than following a more humorous course. The story did occasionally threaten to be loopy but again, earnestness won out.

Jesse Eisenberg plays Mike Howell, a long-haired slacker who spends his days smoking weed and maintaining the sorriest convenience store you ever seen in a sorrier-looking town in West Virginia. When not manning the counter in the store, Mike co-habits with his girlfriend Phoebe Larson (the lovely Kristen Stewart); a she-slacker who works in a bail bonds office. Their shabby existence is redeemed not only by their mutual love and affection but Mike's cartooning, which he works on at all hours of the day; at work and at home. Drawings and storyboards of his astronaut gorilla character decorate the walls of their bedroom and in one scene, the two lay in bed while Mike tells Phoebe about his character's latest development.

A trip to Hawaii, where Mike was to present Phoebe with an engagement ring, is aborted when his gripping phobia of flying leaves him self-imprisoned inside a bathroom stall. Disappointed, Phoebe manages to forgive him though not without a little resentment.

One day, while behind the counter, Mike sees a woman (Connie Britton) in a trench-coat and sunglasses meandering about the aisles. She approaches the counter and utters what sounds like spy patter, which Mike's stoner mind fails to understand and grasp. The scene should be more amusing than it plays but it isn't bad.

Not knowing what the woman is on about, she leaves the store. Later, Mike sees two men messing with his car in the parking lot. When he approaches them and asks them to stop, they attack him, but not before Mike inexplicably unleashes a violent defense; utilizing impressive martial arts skills. He stabs one in the neck with a spoon, then dispatches the other. Dumbfounded by what he's done, he calls Phoebe for help. She arrives shortly thereafter but both are arrested when the police show up.

We learned in an earlier scene that the woman in the trench-coat; Victoria Lasseter, is a top-ranked CIA agent and Mike is a former operative who was trained years before in a program called Wise-Men. The program entailed giving repeat criminals opportunities to be trained as field operatives, of which Mike was a participant. We also learn his memory of his service was wiped clean while he was placed in an area of the country he might do little harm. It comes to light that Mike is Victoria's project but she discovers he is slated for liquidation by an agent who usurped her named Adrian Yates (Topher Grace, as a jerk he is peerless at playing). Unable to deter Adrian from pursuing Mike's life, she shows up at the convenience store to warn him. Hell-bent on killing Mike, Adrian mobilizes a team of assassins.

After the assassins arrive at the county jail where Mike and Phoebe are being held in a cell, they set about killing police officers. Mike and Phoebe manage to escape and in time they discover the plot against him and his past as an operative.

Again, humor should be liberally sprinkled about the story but oddly enough, this doesn't happen. Gruesome violence abounds; Mike manages to fend off assassins with all manner of creative lethality and with all manner of weapons, including a shovel and a frying pan.

As Victoria defies Adrian and the agency by aiding Mike, Phoebe's former involvement as a CIA operative comes to light. The revelation; an absurd twist that should be plumbed for all its comedic potential, is played straight. The news causes a rift between she and Mike. When Mike proves to be highly capable of resisting the assassins, Adrian captures Phoebe, thereby removing his partner.

Because the filmmaker's are unaware that the movie is and should be a comedy, the movie rushes headlong toward a conventional showdown that isn't played for laughs or a wink.

Though multiplexes hardly need another movie with covert intelligence agents running about (Mission Impossible and The Man from U.N.C.L.E. are both in theaters right now), the screens suddenly have space for one more. Sometimes the actors are unaware they are in a movie that is essentially a comedy, in spite of itself. Someone forgot to tell Kristen Stewart not to take the material too seriously; her explosive performance seems wildly at odds with the premise. Jesse Eisenberg plays his character with some sense of silliness but not enough. The same can be said for Connie Britton, Topher Grace and Bill Pullman. John Leguizamo is the only actor in the film who interpreted his character with a light spirit.

I wouldn't say American Ultra is tiresome but its like being in the company of someone who doesn't have a sense of humor and won't go along with a gag. What is particularly frustrating about it is its stubborn refusal to be funny when it should. It hardly works as an action thriller so where does that leave us as an audience? Twelve bucks poorer and 95 minutes older, I suppose. Let my impression of the movie spare you both. Can't you feel yourself a slightly bit richer and more youthful already?

Meru

Directors: Jimmy Chin and Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi

The central peak on Meru mountain in India has been a mountaineer's bane and was formerly deemed unscalable, which prompted three American mountain-climbers: Conrad Anker, Jimmy Chin and Renan Ozturk to make a repeat attempt on the summit in 2011 after having already failed in their initial effort. Though Meru's size is hardly formidable by mountaineering standards (21,850 ft), its unique geological feature, nicknamed the Shark's Fin, poses a daunting challenge to even the most seasoned mountain-climbers. Many of the best had tried and failed to negotiate its massive granite face but in spite of its frightening obstacles, Anker, Chin and Ozturk forged ahead with their own attempt. Their endeavor is the focus of Jimmy Chin and Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi's superb documentary Meru, which opens nation-wide in September.

What distinguishes Meru from other compelling films on mountaineering is its first-person photographic and cinematographic documentation. Chin and Ozturk, accomplished adventure photographers and cinematographers, used their considerable experience to capture footage of their historic ascent. Their breathtaking camera work helps tell an equally breathtaking story. Meru is something special; a thrilling film that offers more than death-defying thrills, it also tells the stories of the climbers themselves, who overcame mind-boggling adversity to make their mark in mountaineering lore.

A standard narrative device in mountaineering films is to introduce the unclimbable mountain. In the opening scenes, we see footage of the three climbers in their tent, hanging from 20,000ft. Waiting out a storm, their faces express exhaustion. Another narrative device is to back-track; to show how the mountaineers arrived at this place and in this predicament.

As the story retraces the steps, we learn about the origins of the first attempt but we also get biographical background on the subjects. We get to know Conrad Anker, who is regarded as one of the world's best mountaineers. We also learn about his mentoring of Jimmy Chin. Chin discusses his early years and his parent's disappointment in his chosen passion, which also serves as his vocation. Also part of biographical background are Chin and Ozturk's photographic assignments, which sometimes involve extreme skiing and following world class snowboarders in harrowing descents.

As we watch the mountaineers pursue their prize, we discover their lives-before the ascent are often as fascinating as their alpine exploits. Anker's story alone could be a feature film. His climbing under the mentorship of legendary mountaineer Mugs Stump plays a significant role in his formative training while his friendship with his friend and climbing partner Alex Lowe was no less vital to his career. Both Stump and Lowe met unfortunate ends on mountains, which Anker recounts in tearful detail. An unforeseen development in his life was falling in love with Lowe's widow, who he subsequently married before adopting her (and Alex's) children. Mentioned in the film but not explored is how Anker achieved international fame for discovering the body of George Mallory; the famed British mountaineer whose disappearance on an Everest climb in 1924 became a mystery.

Chin also achieved a degree of fame for his miraculous survival of an avalanche, which he discusses in harrowing detail. No less miraculous is Ozturk's recovery from an accident while on assignment covering Chin and two snowboarder's adventures on the slopes. The accident which left Ozturk with a cracked skull, broken vertebrae and dangerously reduced blood-flow in his brain not only jeopardized his life, but his ability to walk. The near-tragedy became a source of guilt for Chin, who claims responsibility for Ozturk's mishap. Ozturk's furious determination to return to mountaineering and an attempt on Meru is only one more unbelievable story in a film saturated with such stories.

Interspersed among phenomenal climbing footage are talking head interviews with the climbers and their families. Commentary and insights from famed mountaineering author Jon Krakauer contributes excitement and color to the proceedings.

Captured in heartbreaking footage is the first attempt on the Shark's Fin. A dangerous shortage of food and extended, unforeseen exposure to the elements denied the trio the summit. We see the video of the summit, agonizingly in reach, and feel the climber's crushing disappointment in having to abandon their climb.

Thinking the attempt a one-time effort, Anker learns of another climber's failed designs on Meru, which leaves him determined to try again. A severe wrinkle in the expedition is Ozturk's injury. He is warned that the diminished blood flow in his brain could result in a stroke at high altitudes. Undeterred, we see his herculean determination to join Anker and Chin on the second attempt.

The second attempt, like the first, is well-documented on film. Every minor setback, like an episode of Ozturk's worrisome, stroke-like incoherence, is captured in sight and sound. A storm that held up the group for four days on the first attempt, which dangerously reduced their rations, is mercifully absent on their second attempt. What transpires next is for film-goers to discover for themselves.

In a year of terrific documentaries, Meru claims distinction as an elite entry. It is never less than riveting and the bonds of faith and trust that form between men in a death-courting pursuit is thoroughly explored and touchingly conveyed. Though Chin's wife and co-director, Elizabeth Chai Vasherhelyi, helped mold the footage and interviews into a powerful documentary, it is Chin and Ozturk's superlative camera work on the mountain that merits a share of the praise. The panoramic vistas of the mountain range and the stunning beauty of the imposing Shark's Fin from aerial shots and the foot of the mountain reflect an artist's eye--a skill uncommon among mountain climbers.

The technical details of the climb are made fascinating to the lay person. To hear Chin and Anker discuss the dangers in climbing the granite face; of large chunks of rock separating from the wall, is enough to give one pause. I was also fascinated to learn that a climber attempting Meru must be skilled in several sub-disciplines of climbing; rock-climbing, alpine, etc.

Of course the human element is always at the forefront of the story. Being an excellent risk-assessor and being trustworthy are attributes highly-praised by the climbers, which Chin and Anker emphasize greatly.

I think Meru is one of the year's best films. It is exciting, sometimes heartbreaking and always moving. The men at the center of the story are as amazing as any subjects you will see in film this year; documentary or narrative.

If you think you've seen enough films on mountaineering, you will be pleased to know the genre has room for one more excellent specimen. It is a film you won't forget and one you may want to experience in multiple viewings.

The End of the Tour

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: James Ponsoldt/Starring: Jason Segel, Jesse Eisenberg, Mamie Gummer and Joan Cusack

Movies about writers must be a challenge to promote because 1)There aren't a lot of great movies about writers (I'm trying hard to think of one) 2)Your audience(s) is/are already limited and 3)An anti-intellectual nation such as America is hardly literate, which means Americans would rather not see a movie about a writer it doesn't or won't read. Even one of our country's great scribes; David Foster Wallace, isn't likely to draw an Avengers sized audience (if we only lived in that kind of country!). I'm always naive enough to believe people who pick up a book at least ten times a year (a small number I know, but most Americans can't manage even that) will have read Wallace.

Director James Ponsoldt's film was one of the summer releases I anticipated the most. I thought the idea of making a film about David Foster Wallace quite audacious. The task is unenviable; ardent fans (like myself) are sure to feel most of what they see or hear is wrong. But the fact that Ponsoldt's film is based on author Dave Lipsky's book about Wallace: Although of Course You End Up Becoming Yourself: A Road Trip With David Foster Wallace ; I was confident about accuracy.

But The End of the Tour isn't a biopic, so facts about Wallace are less important to Lipsky and Ponsoldt than the more banal aspects of his life.

Lipsky is played by the nervously intelligent Jesse Eisenberg while Jason Segel inhabits the role of Wallace wonderfully.

An author in his own right, Lipsky joined the staff of Rolling Stone in the 1990s'. Aware of the furor caused by Infinite Jest, Lipsky approaches the editor about writing a piece on Wallace rather than "teen boy bands." Securing his consent, Lipsky travels to Wallace's home in rural Illinois to join him on what is the final leg of a book tour, which concludes in Bloomington, Minnesota.

Lipsky, though initially skeptical about Wallace prior to his reading of Infinite Jest, recognizes his brilliance immediately afterward. His awareness of Wallace's immense talent hangs over the interviews and their casual time together like a Blue whale.

The initial meeting at Wallace's house is low-key and conversational, unlike an interview. With the bandana on his head, Segel bears a scary resemblance to the genuine article and I often forgot during the movie that I wasn't watching Wallace himself.

Lipsky and Wallace become comfortable in the other's presence and after a diner dinner, both writers probe and fish for information. On the way home, the two stop at a convenience store for gobs of junk food, which Wallace heaps on the counter. Lipsky uses his Rolling Stone stipend to pick up the tab.

The conversations occasionally drift into writing and literature and Wallace's authorial goals but somehow the mundane often creeps into the chats. A poster of Alanis Morrisette in Wallace's kitchen is a source of puzzlement for Lipsky. Wallace explains his reason for putting the poster on his wall; citing not only her sex appeal but also her regular person charm. Her regular-person appeal fits into one of the film's themes, which deals with Wallace's self-conscious effort to appear as a regular person too, in spite of Lipsky's doubts about his sincerity.

As Lipsky accompanies Wallace to his bookstore appearances, their friendly rapport is often interrupted by Rolling Stone article imperatives. So often, Lipsky's hand-held recorder comes out, becoming an intrusive presence in otherwise relaxed situations.

Wallace introduces Lipsky to two attractive blonde women; one of whom he dated in graduate school. Wallace begins to grow suspicious of Lipsky's passively flirtatious manner with his ex-girlfriend, which festers until the two men become mutually suspicious and mutually hostile. The tension quite naturally complicates the interview process.

Sensitive questions regarding Wallace's alcoholism and his depression meet with tentative but ultimately forthright answers and at moments, questions about his writing make their way back into interviews. We learn something about his neuroses, like his acute fear of offending people and his quirks, like his addiction to T.V. and his regular dancing at a local church; past-times we hardly attribute to the writer of Infinite Jest.

Though literature is the background against which the story unfolds, the film's real focus is the relationship between Lipsky and Wallace and how the makings of a friendship blossoms from what is ostensibly an interview. In the end, Lipsky's piece never saw the pages of Rolling Stone but based on the film's epilogue, the impact of the experience became significant.

Ponsoldt's film is odd in that it isn't a portrait of a great writer but a glimpse of an ordinary time in an extraordinary man's life; witnessed by a man who realizes he is in the presence of greatness.

I thoroughly enjoyed the film and found the interplay between Segel and Eisenberg to be quite absorbing. In retrospect, one could say the film is an answer to My Dinner With Andre. Conversations make up the drama and essentially carry the film. We want to get inside Wallace's head and know what the man was like. If the movie stumbles, it is in its depiction of Wallace himself for we see so much of his taste for junk culture but none of his taste for literature. In interviews, Wallace does come across as an every-guy albeit with a keen intellect and a superior grasp of the English language. We get a lot of the every-guy part but not so much of the latter. In over-humanizing their subject, Ponsoldt and Lipsky suppress that which made Wallace great. Nevertheless, I found everything about the movie beguiling.

But, as aforementioned, the film will only appeal to those who are more than a little familiar with Wallace and his writing. For those who find the man and his work compelling, The End of the Tour is a rewarding experience and also a tragic one.

Breathe

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Melanie Laurent/Starring: Josephine Japy, Lou de Laage, Roxane Duran and Isabelle Carre'

Melanie Laurent, renowned for her performances in front of the camera, steps behind it again for her directorial effort Breathe; which she adapted from the French novel of the same name. Laurent's compositional skills are highly conspicuous, as is her ability to coax some fine performances from her female characters. Breathe is an intriguing psychological drama; a story of head-games between two teens whose intense friendship skews toward contempt rather than mutual love and affection.

Josephine Japy plays Charlie; a student in a French high school who seems pretty much like her teen peers. Her mother and father are separated and are often engaged in rancorous displays which Charlie witnesses on a regular basis. She also sees how her mother Vanessa (Isabelle Carre') is reduced to pawn status before her father's Svengali-esque control.

In Charlie's literature class, we hear a discussion about whether passion is destructive. Many great minds are quoted, particularly Nietzsche, who once said that passion is easier to end than control. This being a French film, we know the subject of passion and its perilous effects will become a major theme in the story.

Into Charlie's life comes Sarah (Lou de Laage), a new student who immediately insinuates herself not only into the high school social life but more importantly, Charlie's. Sarah mentions to the class that her mother is in Nigeria doing charity work for an NGO, which gives her a sheen of worldliness that impresses the other kids.

As Charlie's affection for Sarah simmers and boils, she begins to ignore her best friend Victoire (Roxane Duran). Charlie and Sarah become inseparable but before long, the friendship enters darker territory. Sarah incurs her friend's ire when she joins Charlie's boyfriend on a plane ride; an act that leaves Charlie callously disregarded. Sarah also becomes thick with Charlie's friends, which begins to rankle her. The romantic stories Sarah tells of her own life begin to annoy the untraveled and innocent Charlie. Particularly vexing are Sarah's stories of sexual conquest, which she uses to humiliate her virginal friend.
As the story progresses, Sarah's unkind and edgier nature emerges.
The friendship takes an even darker turn when Charlie follows Sarah home one night. Suspicious about Sarah's stories about her mother's charity work, Charlie discovers her friend has been concocting wild stories to mask an ugly truth. She finds Sarah lives in a run-down apartment building and peeking through the window, she learns her friend lives with an abusive, alcoholic mother. The scene is exceptional for the slow pan of the the apartment windows, where we see the violent drama inside pass into different rooms until the camera comes to rest on the outside of the building, where the grim revelation plays on Charlie's face. The profound truth about Sarah's life and her need to deceive Charlie and her friends is captured in this one, inventive shot.

When Charlie exposes Sarah's deception, we see the friendship come undone in psychologically-corrosive intricacy. Even after Sarah begins to spread vicious rumors about her friend's sex life; going so far as to scribble scurrilous graffiti on the school walls, Charlie maintains a bizarre loyalty; as if reconciliation is a possibility.
It's easy to see how Charlie's parent's relationship is mirrored in her own. As her mother always sacrifices personal dignity for the sake of having her husband's attention and affection, Charlie is willing to sacrifice her own for the sake of earning Sarah's love.

We can finally see how Nietzsche's words echo truthfully: ending a passion is easier than controlling it.

It isn't surprising how the story ends but it is nonetheless shocking and almost inevitable. Though the story is tremendously sympathetic to Charlie, we see in the end that she is more complicated than she appears and less the passive victim she portrays to the world.

I've always believed the French are masters at psychological character studies. Only a French director could have written and directed a film like Breathe. Comparisons have been made to Blue is the Warmest Color but though that film entered the realm of erotica, Laurent's story only suggests latent sexuality between Charlie and Sarah.

Japy and Laage's performances compliment Laurent's excellent direction. Both women have few difficulties exploring the seemingly endless shadows their characters conceal and expose.

Throughout the film, we see Charlie use an inhaler to combat her virulent asthma. It is interesting to see that her asthmatic episodes seem connected to her relationship with Sarah. The attacks almost seem to be a symptom of the relationship. This idea is strongly supported in the final scene, which I won't reveal here. Charlie's passion for Sarah is so powerful as to literally and figuratively rob her of breath.

Breathe tells us that we should expect great things from Laurent. Her film, like her character who gasps for air, leaves one breathless. If only American teen movies were as fascinating and richly observed as this film. In American teen films, we get weepy characters with cancer or in the case of the insipid Paper Towns; this summer's multiplex teen drama, high school kids are as deep as tortillas. Unfortunately, Laurent's film will play on fewer screens in America than the forthcoming Maze Runner sequel or the final installment of The Hunger Games. Too bad, Laurent's film is more challenging and is certainly more deserving of the attention that is squandered on those glossy wrecks.

Tangerine

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Sean Baker/Starring: Kitana Kiki Rodriguez, Mya Taylor, Karren Karagulian, Mickey O'Hagan, James Ransone and Clu Gulager

What visual limitations might there be for a movie filmed entirely on 3 iPhone 5s' with a meager budget of $100K? After seeing director Sean Baker's Tangerine, I think the answer might be: none, if imagination and a solid visual sense serve the filmmaker. Baker seems to possess both attributes in abundance and deploys them expertly. If one can glean any lessons from watching the endless parade of obesely-budgeted superhero movies this summer season, it is that big money, space-age effects and marquee actors seldom deliver quality entertainment. Unlike corporate Hollywood's bloated productions, Baker's film is fun, funny, touching and populated with characters who are fascinatingly real.

Set in the gritty streets of present day L.A., Tangerine tells the story of two transgender prostitutes named Sin-Dee (Kitana Kiki Rodriguez) and Alexandra (Mya Taylor), who spend their days hustling on the city streets, which also means avoiding the police and sometimes hateful attacks. When the story begins, Sin-Dee and Alexandra are having a spirited conversation on Christmas Eve morning, inside a fast-food place. Sin-Dee, volatile and irascible, talks about Chester, the man she loves but who has been fooling around with a woman who she learns is named Dinah. While Sin-Dee's rage and wounded pride become catalysts for a cross-town odyssey to find Chester, Alexandra walks the street distributing flyers for a show she is to perform on Christmas Eve. A parallel narrative involves an Armenian cab-driver named Razmik (Karren Karagulian) whose offbeat and colorful clients sometimes try his patience, particularly two revelers who vomit in his cab. Another amusing fare involves a white man who waxes volubly about his Cherokee ancestry (Clu Gulager, who I've not seen in many years).

How the two transgender prostitutes and Razmik are connected isn't immediately obvious but as the story progresses, we see that Razmik has a passion for hustlers like Sin-Dee and Alexandra, in spite of having a wife at home. In one scene, Razmik propositions a prostitute, only to find she is a woman, leading to her immediate ejection from the vehicle.

Meanwhile, a man picks up Alexandra for a quick assignation. The scene becomes comical when the man reveals he only has forty dollars. The situation escalates into an argument, which spills out into the street. Their noisy fracas brings the unwanted attention of two cops sitting in their car, one of whom is quite familiar with Alexandra.

Meanwhile, Sin-Dee's furious search for Chester leads her all about town and into the company of pimps, drug-dealers and fellow transgenders.

Razmik manages to find Alexandra; we see the easy rapport the two share. The meeting quickly becomes a carnal transaction, which takes place inside a car-wash. What follows is one of the most visually-imaginative and beautifully-conceived scenes I've seen in a film in awhile. The windshield with soapy and watery cascades is so subtly sexual; it's clever without being self-consciously so.

Sin-Dee manages to track down Dinah (Mickey O'Hagan), who she finds inside a dirty, cheap motel room serving as an ad hoc brothel. We see Sin-Dee's prey; a young, emaciated blonde whose appearance speaks of ferocious drug-use and prostitution. Sin-Dee drags her (literally) out of the motel and across town in search of Chester and in the process Dinah becomes almost complicitous in her abduction.

In another scene, we see Razmik's home-life; a halcyon picture of holiday festivity as his mother-in-law, wife and daughter share a holiday meal with relatives. Eager to leave to attend Alexandra's show at a local nightclub, he fabricates a story about having to work. His departure draws protests from the gathering, particularly his mother-in-law, who suspects infidelity.

Razmik searches for Alexndra after missing her show but finds her at the doughnut shop where Sin-Dee confronts Chester. And while Razmik's presence has a negative impact on the proceedings, the situation is worsened when his mother-in-law shows up after her suspicions rouse her to action. This scene, where all the characters converge, is both absurd and humorous but takes a serious turn as Sin-Dee learns of Alexandra's fling with Chester while Razmik confronts not only his meddling mother-in-law but his wife and daughter, who also show up at the doughnut shop.

A film like Tangerine could have derailed early but Baker trusts in his actors and the material to ensure the story stays on its spellbinding course. Kitana Kiki Rodriguez and Mya Taylor, real-life transgender actors, have few problems with authenticity. I really liked Karren Karagulian's performance as the Armenian immigrant whose taste in amorous partners is at cross purposes with his seemingly traditional family life.

As previously stated, Baker's visual aesthetic is in no way inhibited by technology. In fact, the lack of conventional film-making media may have been a boon. To not have had a solid story and characters would have reduced his guerrilla film-making venture to a clever trick.

Even days after having seen the film, I find Tangerine has resonance and charm. I'm still chuckling, remembering the funny scenes and how life-like many characters seem. I was surprised to learn Mickey O'Hagan is actually a drama-school alumnus. Seeing her in the film, I was convinced she is the character she portrays. It is often hard to distinguish the actors from the denizens of L.A.'s underbelly; who appear often in Baker's film.

The meaning of the title remains opaque, though we see Alexandra give Razmik a tangerine-scented air-freshener for his cab to combat the reek left by his vomiting passengers. Is the air-freshener a metaphor for society's fruitless attempt to suppress what it regards as American life's seamier side; the transgender culture?

Tangerine is another summer surprise; one whose very existence is a welcome affront to so-called Hollywood movie-making professionalism. Baker conducts a clinic on how to make a compelling film with a device no bigger than one's palm and with a miniscule budget that couldn't match a minor character's pay in The Avengers. This is indie film-making at its best.

What do you have for us next, Mr. Baker?

Best of Enemies

Director: Robert Gordon and Morgan Neville

The sociopolitical climate during the Republican and Democratic conventions in 1968 was highly combustible and it is safe to say that the tensions surrounding the respective events reflected that which was gripping the nation. With the Vietnam War raging, a galvanized and committed counter-culture movement vigorously protested the conflict, while an equally committed conservative establishment voiced its contempt for the left's anti-war protests and sentiments.

In this seething atmosphere came a series of debates, aired by ABC T.V. during its coverage of both conventions, that stand as the most famous in American television history.
We learn from directors Robert Gordon and Morgan Neville's excellent documentary, The Best of Enemies, that ABC was regarded as something of a joke and an also-ran among the other networks at the time. As a boost to its convention coverage, the network held a series of ten on-air debates between two towering intellects; Gore Vidal; author, screenwriter and knight of the American left and William F. Buckley Jr., editor of the conservative magazine The National Review and paladin for the right.

Gordon and Neville's film explores the debate's impact on television but also, and maybe more significantly, on the two combatants themselves. Even decades later, the debates left Vidal and Buckley's nerves a little tender, which the film effectively conveys.

Gordon and Neville's film skillfully blends debate footage with commentary from a variety of sources, including Dick Cavett, the late Christopher Hitchens, Buckley's brother F. Reid Buckley; all who provide valuable insights. In F. Reid's case; familial perspective proves to be insightful and objective. Weighing in and providing embellishment are Vidal and Buckley biographers, who are never short of incisive analysis and facts.

An indisputable fact, made abundantly clear by both Buckley and Vidal and by commentators alike is the intense loathing both men bore for the other. As stated in the film, both felt the other represented something dangerous and threatening to the nation. Those interviewed are quick to place emphasis on the fierce intellects and the almost peerless use of language both men made their specialty. With eloquence and saber-sharp wit at their disposal, Vidal and Buckley's debates were looked upon as an intellectual prize-fight. Both contestants were expected to be brutal and merciless.

Biographical territory is also covered in the film. We learn that both men were well-educated and privileged; their respective backgrounds very similar. While Buckley pursued higher education, Gore wrote his first novel at nineteen, thus beginning a prolific, authorial career.

The film wastes little time showing the debates, which are divided appropriately by rounds. Though what we see and hear is hardly surprising, given both men's antipathy for his opponent's politics, it is still quite fascinating to listen as they verbally jab and parry. A Buckley biographer speaks of his ability to effectively dismantle an argument, piece by piece, while Vidal's weapons of choice were razor-sharp witticisms, which he could deploy to devastating effect.

But it is the final round, the 10th debate, where the harshest words were exchanged; inappropriately ad hominem but seemingly inevitable. After the near-violent exchange, where Vidal goaded Buckley into fisticuffs, the conservative leader made bigoted comments he would live to regret. One of the insults pointedly targeted Vidal's sexuality; a subject the film could hardly sidestep. The fact that Buckley's own sexuality was suspect makes his outburst all the more peculiar and intriguing.

The latter half of the film deals with the debate's aftermath and its impact on both men into their elder years. We learn that in the 80s', the shame Buckley felt for his outburst was still acute. When an interviewer mentioned having seen the debate, a bewildered Buckley expressed his surprise that the tapes hadn't been destroyed.

We also see how the debates helped spawn news program point/counterpoint commentary.

It is easy to become absorbed in Gordon and Neville's documentary, which captures a time that seems so alive and yet so quaint. Given the shrill, venomous nature of ubiquitous, political diatribes today, one can appreciate the Vidal/Buckley debates as an extinct form of political melee; where eloquent arguments were as highly regarded as facts and statistics. But the film is as much about the adversaries as it is the debates and the state of the nation in the late 60s'.

Best of Enemies is a terrific film and a fascinating time-capsule. Both men have passed on this new century, but like warriors of Homeric lore, they've achieved a legendary status; as nemeses and as intellects.